


Black Hole

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tommy is afraid. There’s something there, and it seems terrifying.[Yeah, that’s enough of scaring people with the tags. Please note the boundaries of the creators you choose to write about and stay in your lane. It ain’t a monumental task.]
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Comments: 88
Kudos: 683
Collections: Anonymous





	Black Hole

There’s a dark shadow at the end of the room. Tommy doesn’t know how it got there, but it keeps getting bigger by the second.

His gaze is locked on it and nothing else. A few minutes ago, he had been on his computer playing Minecraft with absolutely no reason to be so afraid. A few minutes ago, it hadn’t been there. The place had been bright, even with the window blinds down. The lights were on. The fire was filled with passion, creativity and wholesomeness. 

It seemed only a few minutes ago had been exactly when the sun seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth’s skies. There was no moon. There was no reason for it to be there. 

It ripples, the darkness almost giving off the impression that it was trying to swallow up everything. Maybe it was. Tommy didn’t understand its intentions. 

And why should he? It had no reason being there. 

Wilbur opens the door, expression worried. “Tommy. What happened?”

He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see the shadow, Tommy realizes. And with a sinking, heavy sense of dread, he realizes that he’s alone. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.

“Tommy, talk to me.” And he sits down, studying Tommy’s feverish expression. “What’s wrong?”

There’s nothing to be gained or lost by telling him. Nothing would change, but maybe...

Maybe he’d understand. **Maybe he’d be able to see the truth too.**

So he tells him. He tells him of the darkness that’s been steadily growing in his room. Becoming huger by the second, opening it’s gaping maw to engulf everything in black. It being unresponsive to anything and everything. It was hungry. It didn’t stop at one, it always dove in for a second or third.

And Wilbur believes him. He can tell when Wilbur spots it too. The faceless entity, the sick feeling that came with it, wafting out towards him like a hand grabbing him and pulling him below the ground.

All those good feelings. Hate, fear, anger, disappointment, disgust, self-loathing. All those good feelings, wrapped up in a bow made of black ash. It crumbled away, and there was nothing underneath. Nothing genuine. **Nothing good.**

It tried to convince him it wasn’t all that bad. It didn’t have to say anything, but Tommy felt it trying anyway. Its ways of silencing the ones who said otherwise, and encouraging everything else that was vile were bad enough. Obscenities beyond any sort of humane measure seemed to run rampant within its center, a ghastly thing.

Tommy felt Wilbur shift, sitting next to him with the same vacant expression he’d seen on his own face in the mirror.

“It’s not right,” Wilbur whispers. “It’s fucking sick.”

_He listens_.

“The fact that people can think of such things is sick. The fact that we’re unable to do anything about it makes it worse. Even then, there’s mentions of having a ‘freedom of speech’ or whatever the fuck it means now. Its true meaning has slowly degraded into an excuse for justifying otherwise inhumane behavior.

“The fact that we write things about real people - real people out there, with lives, aspirations, goals, personalities, wants, behaviors - is in itself a sensitive thing. Prod it the wrong way, and you’ll be overstepping boundaries that have always been set in stone. Push it to its limit, and you are a sick fuck with no moral compass whatsoever.”

Pedophilia is not something to be proud of. It is not a story plot. It is definitely not excusable. Smack your fucking head until your brain is correctly aligned with the rest of your body, and think about what you are doing for a fucking second.

The characters you write in this fandom are not fictional. The characters you write in this fandom are real people. **Real people**.

Let that sink in.

Shipping someone when they have clearly stated that they are uncomfortable with it is beyond degrading. It’s atrocious. It’s ignoring human boundaries, ignoring what you as a person are, ignoring the person you are a so-called ‘fan’ of.

You really think that your friends, or family for that matter, would appreciate what you write? Do you really think that just because there are others like you, others who have no respect for themselves or anyone else, it excuses reality?

** Fuck no. It fucking doesn’t. **

And if you have issues in life, or things that you’re trying to live with or forget, this isn’t the right way to go about it. There’s so many other alternatives.

“There’s a thin line between it all,” Tubbo whispers from where he’s crouched near the wall, shaking. “There’s a paper-thin line. Never cross it.”

“Listen to what people say about their boundaries, and follow them. You have no excuses,” Phil responds. 

“And if you gotta write that shit,” Techno finishes, “don’t justify yourself with ‘don’t like, don’t read’. Sit yourself down and try to come up with one reason, just one, about why it’s okay to glorify pedophilia, child abuse, rape or anythin’ else. Give us a reason for why it’s acceptable, and why we shouldn’t speak up. And if you still can’t find one-“

“Fuck off,” Wilbur says. “If you cant justify your actions with anything other than the lowest form of self-gratification or sick fantasies, leave.    
  


“Write in a fandom where real people don’t exist, or make your own characters if you’re that desperate,” Phil adds. 

  
Dream nods in agreement, just as George blinks in the doorway, rubbing his eyes at the sudden burst of light. “It’s three in the morning- what are we talking about again?”

** Just don’t bring them into it.  **

Write whatever you want, but when it comes to real people, watch out for boundaries. Watch out for where you step.

** Take a look around. It’s not that hard to see. **

**Author's Note:**

> Check the SMP Boundaries tumblr for more info on certain creators, and do your research before writing anything at all. 
> 
> This is only for fuckers who ship minors or people who have explicitly stated they’re not comfortable with it. No, it’s not for shipping in general or any other accepted ships that have been proved to be fine (like DreamNotFound, for example.) Sorry if that wasn’t evident enough.


End file.
